


Dressed to Impress

by mag_lex



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Smut, inspired by the s12 trailer, thasmin, they really did give us the goods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21535204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mag_lex/pseuds/mag_lex
Summary: Yaz asks the Doctor to take her for a ride on her motorbike.(chapter 1 is G, chapter 2 is M)
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 35
Kudos: 135
Collections: Thasmin! Fics!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Holy cow, that trailer was something else. Here's a little something inspired by it <3
> 
> I am tempted just to leave this as a little one shot but you know me, there is always the possibility of smut :)

“Since when do you ride a motorbike?”

Yaz regarded the Doctor with bemusement as she took off her helmet. It was a fraction too big for her head and her blonde hair, which she’d started to grow out a little, was mussed by the movement. Yaz reached out to help her fix it. 

“What do you mean?” the Doctor asked as she placed the helmet on the TARDIS console. She looked tired, and Yaz felt tired, which was unsurprising given the day they’d had; but the image of the Doctor riding that bike wouldn’t leave Yaz’s mind. That, and the tuxedo the Doctor had insisted on wearing had distracted her all day long. Considered together, Yaz knew she would struggle to shift the mental image for a long time to come. 

“I didn’t know you could ride one,” Yaz explained. The Doctor was full of surprises, and even when Yaz thought she was starting to get a handle on her, she’d come up with something new. Like riding a motorbike, or wearing a tuxedo and bow tie. Or riding a motorbike while wearing a tuxedo and bow tie. Yaz was still getting over that particular combination.

“Oh! Well, back when I first met Che Guevara I got a bit jealous. It looked like a lot of fun, just jumping on the back of one and driving off into the sunset.”

“...says the person who has a spaceship that can also travel through time?” Yaz mused, wondering what it would be like to jump on the back of a bike with the Doctor. She had to admit that it sounded appealing, even if the Doctor’s typical logic seemed flawed. The Doctor pursed her lips, considering Yaz’s point.

“It’s not quite the same. There’s something nostalgic about such a simple piece of machinery. No offence to the TARDIS, of course, and it only really works if you have a reliable bike. Che’s kept breaking down and-”

“Doctor, can you take me for a ride?”

Yaz cut her off as she realised that she wanted more than anything to do as the Doctor had suggested: ride off into the sunset. Preferably together.

“Now?”

“Mmhmm.” 

“What about the others?”

“Ryan was complaining about his suit being uncomfortable and I think Graham mentioned needing a nap, so….”

Yaz trailed off, hoping the Doctor would take the hint. 

“I don’t think I have a spare helmet,” the Doctor frowned. “Wait a second and I’ll find you one. Health and safety is paramount!” She disappeared into the depths of the TARDIS before Yaz could protest, but to her companion’s great relief, re-emerged mere moments later with a much more sensible helmet than her own. 

“There you go. I take my passengers’ security very seriously,” the Doctor said, watching as Yaz untied her hair so that she could fit the helmet over her head. 

“Let me,” the Doctor insisted, tightening the strap so that it fit securely. Her hand lingered for a moment too long, tickling the skin near Yaz’s chin. “Shall we?”

Yaz nodded, feeling the helmet shift, and eagerly followed the Doctor back out of the TARDIS doors and to the motorbike she’d left outside. Her tuxedo jacket flapped slightly in the evening breeze. 

“Think we should just about make sunset if we get a shift on,” the Doctor grinned, plonking her own helmet on her head and sitting astride the bike. She did it in a way that seemed so natural that Yaz couldn’t help but find it a bit of a turn-on. Her tuxedo jacket flared around her hips once her legs had spread, her trousers riding up so that her knees were exposed. Only once Yaz had climbed on behind her did she start to make preparations to leave. 

“You might want to hold on,” the Doctor said, turning back to look at Yaz. “You can either reach behind you, or-”

Yaz wrapped her arms around the Doctor’s waist without a moment’s hesitation. 

“Or that works,” the Doctor practically squeaked, the register of her voice going up higher than usual. Yaz smirked into her shoulder blade. 

“I’m ready, Doctor. Take me for a spin.”

Yaz had no idea where they actually went; all she really cared for was the feel of the Doctor in her arms and the vibrations of the bike beneath them. The engine was a powerful one and although she wasn’t in control of the machinery, Yaz could see the appeal. But the combination was lethal and it made keeping still very difficult. So, it was with a sigh of relief that Yaz finally stepped off the bike, having reached a clifftop with a view of the sea. As the Doctor had predicted, they’d made it just in time for sunset. 

“I think I get what you mean about the bike,” Yaz admitted. Her ears were still ringing from the roar of the engine, her cheeks a little cold from the breeze. But she had to admit that the ride had been liberating and all the more captivating because of the person who’d taken her on it. 

“Yeah?” the Doctor beamed, holding out a hand to take Yaz’s helmet for her. 

“Yeah. It does feel nice to be out in the open.” 

The Doctor sighed, eyes fixed on the horizon. Yaz took the opportunity to regard the woman next to her, cast in the golden light of the fading sun. 

“You keep surprising me,” Yaz admitted after a moment of peace. “I think I know you, and then…”

“I ride a motorbike?”

Yaz nodded. 

“When you get to this point in your life, you start to forget about what you’ve done. All the things you’ve learned, and what’s brought you to this point in time. You start to forget about why you are the way you are.”

The Doctor was still staring at the horizon pensively. Yaz frowned at the shift in tone. 

“Well, for what it’s worth, I like the way you are. Even if you insist on wearing a bow tie.”

At that, the Doctor turned, jaw dropped. 

“Hey! Bow ties are cool.”

“That’s up for debate, Doctor. Trust me.”

“Fine,” the Doctor grumbled, tugging at the tie around her neck. “I think we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

She huffed as the tie tightened instead of loosened and Yaz stepped closer, reaching up with both hands. 

“My turn to help you,” she said, starting to ease the knot carefully. She could feel the Doctor swallow against her fingertips and she tried hard not to pull the material any tighter because the Doctor had already done a number on it. But it was very difficult to concentrate when she could feel the Doctor’s breath on her cheek. She could practically feel the Doctor’s gaze on her as she worked. 

“You’ve really tied this tight,” she laughed nervously, feeling her fingers become sweaty as she worked under the Doctor’s scrutiny. They’d never been this close before, as much as Yaz had wanted them to be. 

“You can leave it on if it’s easier,” the Doctor said, her voice quiet. Yaz shook her head stubbornly, determined to get rid of the damned thing. After a few more moments of struggle she relaxed as the knot started to loosen and with a flourish, she pulled it from the Doctor’s neck, throwing it over her shoulder with a cheeky grin. 

“Oi! I’d like to keep it if it’s all the same to you.”

“I’ll pick it up later,” Yaz said, realising a moment too late that she’d returned her hands to their previous position and was now undoing the top buttons of the Doctor’s white shirt. 

“Oh. Thanks, Yaz,” the Doctor murmured, looking down to see what she was doing, and Yaz blushed as she finally let her hands drop back to her sides. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to move away. 

“You look nice in the suit,” she said instead. “Even with the bow tie.”

“You look pretty nice yourself, Yaz. I like your outfit,” the Doctor replied. There was an awkward pause as neither of them seemed to know what to do next. Yaz could feel the potential moment slipping through her fingers and resolved not to let it out of her grasp. This particular moment was perfect - the Doctor in her tuxedo, shirt unbuttoned, having driven her to watch the sunset on a cliff - it couldn’t get any more romantic, really. 

Her heart started to pound in her chest as Yaz weighed up her options. 

“I’d hoped you might like it,” she said, meeting the Doctor’s gaze and noting the way she swallowed hard at the admission. 

“Would you laugh if I said the same?” asked the Doctor after a pause, her tone uncertain. 

“No. You wore a tux for me?”

The Doctor nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets as if she didn’t trust them. 

“You really do pull it off,” Yaz said, reaching for the lapels of the tuxedo jacket. It was the first time she had touched the Doctor for no other reason than because she wanted to. She tried and failed to contain the grin that emerged when the Doctor’s hands slipped out of their coat pockets and rested on her hips, instead, pulling her close. 

“Mission accomplished,” the Doctor smiled, dipping her head to bring their lips together in a kiss that took Yaz’s breath away.

“Do you think I could convince you to get out of it?” Yaz asked as they separated, fingers tight in the lapels of the Doctor’s coat. It was the only reason she was still standing upright. 

“I reckon I could be persuaded.”


	2. Chapter 2

Yaz shivered when she finally let go of the Doctor’s lapels. Her legs felt like they were made of cotton wool and she disguised their weakness by seating herself on the back of the bike. 

“Come on, then. Take me home.”

The journey back was even more distracting than the journey out. Yaz was grateful for the night air keeping her cool because otherwise she was certain she’d combust. She could feel the warmth of the Doctor’s stomach beneath the crisp white linen of her shirt and couldn’t resist laying her palms flat against it, no longer hiding behind the pretence of holding on. The Doctor’s gentle breaths kept her calm but the prospect that lay ahead of them was like the road they followed, winding into the night with a destination that Yaz could picture in her mind. 

_The Doctor between her legs._

Yaz inhaled sharply, so sharply that she almost choked.

“Are you okay back there, Yaz?” the Doctor asked, raising her voice above the noise of the engine and the air rushing past them. She was driving faster than she had previously, and Yaz wondered if the Doctor’s thoughts were as distracted as her own. Yaz realised that she was gripping on tightly, the fingertips of her right hand playing with the closest shirt button. 

“Fine,” she called back, but she wasn’t. She made a determined effort to stop fidgeting because there was the very real possibility that the Doctor might run them off the road if her hand wandered where it wanted to. They were so close, now, that Yaz could see the TARDIS at the top of the hill, its light shining like a beacon in the dark.

Then, the engine started to sputter and their speed slowed. 

“Ah. The one downside to these...they need re-fueling a lot more often than the TARDIS,” the Doctor sighed once the engine had fully conked out and they’d come to a stop at the entrance to the vineyard. Yaz gratefully removed her helmet; she was having enough trouble concentrating as it was, never mind with plastic moulded around her head. 

The Doctor removed her own helmet and was about to get off the bike but Yaz knew her legs wouldn’t be ready for a walk up the hill. She needed a moment, and she was far too turned on to let the Doctor get away so easily. 

“Hang on,” she said, resuming her grip around the Doctor’s waist. “Can we sit here a minute?”

She could picture the look of confusion on the Doctor’s face; in fact she could just about see it, since her seat was raised a little higher than where the Doctor was sitting.

“I need a moment,” Yaz admitted. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” the Doctor asked, clearly concerned. She twisted in Yaz’s grip to try and get a look at her face but they were pressed so tightly together that the movement simply served to make Yaz’s life even more difficult. 

“I will be.” Her hands drifted lower, reaching for the waistband of the Doctor’s trousers and the fastener she knew must be hidden there.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” she asked, undoing the fastener and waiting for any signs of protest. There were none; instead, the Doctor planted her feet more firmly on the ground, leaning into Yaz’s embrace. It was all the permission Yaz needed to slide a hand inside. 

“No,” the Doctor replied, her answer a breathy sigh. 

“How long have you wanted this?” Yaz asked, hand drifting down and over the Doctor’s boxer shorts. She bit back a smile when she realised that the Doctor’s taste in underwear was just as practical as her other clothing.

“Do you want the actual date, or…” the Doctor said, and Yaz could hear the smirk in her voice. 

“No need to get clever,” she said, deliberately passing over what she was almost certain was the Doctor’s clit in retaliation. 

“Ah, but I am, Yaz. And you are, too, trapping me like this.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Yaz replied, her confidence growing by the second as she felt warmth blossom beneath her fingertips. She moved her hand up briefly to slide inside the final barrier separating them. 

“I can tell you do,” she continued, feeling how slick the Doctor was beneath her hand. She still couldn’t see the Doctor’s face but she could tell from the change in her breathing that she was enjoying the attention.

“Turning up in a tux for me,” Yaz said, starting to move her fingers more deliberately between the Doctor’s legs. They were trapped by layers of fabric but she could move them just enough to bring the Doctor off, she reckoned. 

“I think you knew what it would do to me.”

The Doctor’s sighs turned into moans as Yaz circled her clit more firmly. 

“And then...the bike.”

“What about the bike?” the Doctor panted, leaning further back into the body behind her. Her hands gripped onto Yaz’s knees, which were resting on her hips. The move brought her ear into close proximity with Yaz’s mouth, which was an added bonus. Yaz leaned in.

“Besides the image of you riding it in this tux? I could feel it throbbing beneath me. And now I think you are for me.”

She picked up the pace, fingers working rapidly under the tent of fabric she’d made for herself. The Doctor had started to shift, helping things along by chasing the pressure as Yaz worked her higher and higher. The hands on Yaz’s knees clenched as the Doctor groaned, drowning out the sound of the nearby cicadas. Yaz had almost forgotten they were out in view of anybody who might dare to walk past but it was too late, now; she had to bring the Doctor off. 

“Are you going to come?”

The Doctor nodded, the pants and moans escaping from her mouth becoming even more desperate, more loud, as Yaz’s fingers continued to work her over. 

Yaz whipped out her final weapon and used her free hand to tug the Doctor’s collar away from her neck, latching onto the sensitive skin there and smirking against it as she heard the Doctor cry out into the night air. Suddenly, she froze, going stiff in Yaz’s arms as her head fell back against Yaz’s shoulder and she went completely and utterly silent. 

After a few moments the tension snapped and the Doctor slumped in Yaz’s arms with a moan, boneless. 

Yaz moved her mouth away, and, after a moment, retrieved her hand. 

“You should wear a tux more often.”

The Doctor nodded, still catching her breath, and nearly fell off the bike when she moved to stand. 

“Doctor!”

“Whoah. Just need to get some feeling back in my legs,” she breathed, bracing her hands on her knees. Yaz bit her lip when she saw that her shirt had become untucked, her trouser clasp still open. She cautiously slid off the bike, feeling uncomfortably aroused and wondering what on earth she was going to do about it. Preferably the Doctor would help her out. 

“Perhaps you need a lie down?” Yaz suggested, realising when their eyes met that the Doctor fully planned on returning the favour. 

“Oh, I definitely do.”

She shrugged off her tuxedo jacket, throwing it to the ground. Her gaze still fixed on Yaz, she unbuttoned her shirtsleeves, rolling them up to her elbows. 

Yaz felt her jaw drop. The tux had been hot, but this…

The Doctor closed the space between them, taking Yaz by the hand and leading her to where she’d deposited her jacket. The way in which she’d so simply and effectively taken control left Yaz at a loss.

“I think you do too,” the Doctor said, and Yaz realised she had started to untie the sash at her waist. The pressure around her stomach loosened and the jacket fell away, guided by the Doctor’s deft fingers as she neatly pushed it from Yaz’s shoulders. 

“And I think we’ve talked enough, don’t you?” 

With a gentle nudge, she guided Yaz to lie on the ground, kneeling between her legs. She made quick work of Yaz’s shoes, tossing them carelessly aside. 

“Do let me know what you’re thinking, though. My mouth is going to be otherwise occupied.”

Yaz felt her own mouth grow dry as the Doctor unbuttoned her trousers and tugged them down her legs, followed shortly by her underwear. She could feel the lining of the jacket underneath her bare thighs, still warm from the Doctor’s shoulders, and then a hot mouth derailed all sensible thought.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me on Twitter @_mag_lex.
> 
> My fics are now on WordPress at maglexfic.wordpress.com. You should be able to subscribe there to all my new ones, since I won't be posting any new fics to Ao3 for the foreseeable future :)


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